


Your Mom

by partialresonance



Series: Comfort in Quarantine [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gingerpilot, M/M, Men Crying, Terrible your mom jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23262388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partialresonance/pseuds/partialresonance
Summary: Prompt by @coselia on Twitter: "This is terrible but...Hux never told Poe how the "your mom" joke made him feel, and one day Poe makes another one. Hux isn't ready to hear something like that from someone he's so vulnerable to, so he has a breakdown. Poe has to figure out what happened and apologize."
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Series: Comfort in Quarantine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672642
Comments: 22
Kudos: 129





	Your Mom

In retrospect it was such a small thing. It should have been meaningless; it was, to Poe. But not to Hux.

Poe had had his arm slung around Hux in the mess hall of the Resistance base, chatting happily with his friends. Finn and Rose were on the other side of the table and Rey and Ben were nearby. In the uneasy weeks after the defeat of the First Order Hux and Ben didn’t talk, to each other or to anyone other than their respective partners. Ben was a brooding hulk, Hux a tight-lipped whipcord of suspicion. Rey and Poe loved them anyway.

Finn and Rose were like a beacon of well-adjusted sunshine by comparison.

Poe had been animated, food forgotten as he joked around with Finn, the two of them spitting well-meaning barbs back and forth.

“Listen,” Finn drawled, “I really don’t need to be taking any love advice from you, old man.”

“Old man?” Poe sputtered, jostling Hux as he leaned forward. “Take it back!”

“It’s true! I’m telling the truth, right Rose?”

“You do have a grey hair or two,” Rose said, lifting her eyebrows and taking a sip of juice.

“Hugs, babe, back me up.” Poe turned a pleading look on Hux. “Do I have grey hair? I don’t think I have grey hair. You tell me where you see grey.” He bowed his head, displaying his head of thick, dark curls. Hux calmly lifted an eyebrow. Two of those slender fingers darted out to pluck a silver hair straight out of Poe’s scalp. Poe looked up with a yelp and Hux held the silver hair up to the light while Rose and Finn promptly lost their shit.

Rose burst into giggles. Finn dropped his head to the table, smacking it with his hand, shoulders wracked with loud guffaws.

Poe could only stare at Hux with an expression caught halfway between glee and ultimate betrayal.

“You bastard!” He batted Hux playfully on the shoulder, missing how the man went rigid beside him. Rose was quicker.

“Uh, Poe…”

“No, really, did your mother teach you those manners?” Poe laughed, thinking it was the same as poking fun at Finn, unaware of the line he’d crossed.

Hux stood abruptly. His nostrils were flared, eyes wide and white. Too late, Poe saw the way his lips trembled with barely suppressed rage.

“Hugs? Wait, Hugs!”

Quick as a striking viper, Hux turned on his heel and left the mess hall. Poe, no longer laughing, looked back at Finn and Rose.

“What did I say?”

Poe found Hux in their shared quarters.

He expected to come upon the other man pacing from wall to wall the way he’d done after every other tantrum. They were frequent at first, less so as the weeks wore on and he’d come to accept his place among his former enemies. But Hux wasn’t pacing with his usual angry-at-the-floor-for-existing stride, boots slapping with unnecessary, cathartic force.

He was curled up on their bunk, facing the wall.

Poe entered with a soft knock, closing the door behind him.

“Hugs?”

No response. Poe sighed.

“Hugs, I’m sorry. I know you’re upset but I don’t really know what I did.”

He took a few steps toward the bed, chewing his lip. When Hux still didn’t respond he put his hands on his hips, tapping his fingers against his belt.

“You know I was just kidding, right?” Sometimes Hux didn’t seem to understand when people were joking. Poe figured that was it, that was all this was. Just a misunderstanding on Hux’s part. Poe just had to explain himself. “Like I was doing with Finn, I told him he was awkward as a protocol droid, he called me an old man. It’s just something friends do.”

Poe tilted his head as he watched Hux’s shoulders do something odd. There was a muffled sound, almost like he was…

“Kriff!” Poe swooped down, sitting on the bed and immediately putting his hands on Hux’s back. Then he was bending over, smothering Hux in as much of a hug as he could while the other man still refused to turn over and look at him.

Poe didn’t know what else to do. He had never seen Hux _cry_ before. He was half-worried about what this meant for the stability of spacetime.

“Hugs, I’m sorry,” he started babbling, lips pressed to Hux’s shirt. “I don’t even remember what I said but whatever it was I didn’t mean it—”

“Of course you don’t remember!” Hux snarled. “It’s meaningless to you!” He swiped a hand angrily across his face, trying to turn into the pillow and hide as he bit back another sob. “This is childish, but I can’t stop.”

Poe blew out a breath, rubbing Hux’s shoulder. The fact that Hux was apparently angry at himself made his stomach turn. He knew Hux hadn’t had the healthiest upbringing—it was kind of obvious, once you started spending time with him, paying attention to his reactions. Hux seemed confident at first but the truth was he was constantly running himself down.

“Hugs, baby, it’s okay. Will you sit up for me?”

“You should leave.” Hux sniffed. “I’ll stop eventually.”

Poe tugged insistently on his arms and after a moment Hux sat up, allowing Poe to embrace him fully. Poe wended his fingers through Hux’s hair, pressing the other man’s face to his chest as he continued to bite back quiet sobs.

“Talk to me, baby,” Poe murmured, rubbing Hux’s back.

“It’s nothing.” Hux persisted in the lie despite all the evidence to the contrary.

“It’s not nothing. I said something that upset you. I’d like to avoid doing it again.”

“Just—my mother,” Hux choked out. His eyes were squeezed shut, nose brushing Poe’s shirt. “Please don’t—mention her again.”

Poe’s eyes went wide, hand going still.

“Kriff,” he breathed. “I didn’t realize…”

“It—reminded me of—the last time you spoke of her.”

Poe swallowed.

“I’ve said something like that before?”

“Don’t you remember D’Qar?”

“What, the prank? I remember calling you Hugs, and—oh.” Poe sucked in a breath. “Kriff, yeah, I did.”

Hux drew in a shaky breath. Then another.

“Babe,” Poe said tentatively, “It really was just a joke. Both times. It was dumb and obviously I have no idea who your mother was—”

Hux choked on another sob and his hand came up to clutch at Poe’s shirt, forming a shaky fist around the fabric. Poe fell silent, feeling like he was just making it worse, and held Hux close.

The thing that most people didn’t realize about Armitage Hux was that he felt. Deeply. He seemed cold and uncaring to those who didn’t know him—he had to be, to fire Starkiller Base, right? What those people didn’t know was how much of a toll that decision had taken on him. They didn’t see his insecurity, his self-hatred, his fear.

Poe had seen a lot, these last few weeks, but it wasn’t everything. Not even close.

Hux was crying openly now and Poe had no idea what to do about it. It was like everything Hux had kept pent up for thirty-five years was crashing down on him at once, and all Poe could do was hold him, guilt gnawing at his stomach as he thought back on his careless words.

“Why don’t you tell me about her?” Poe said finally, desperate to provide Hux with any other outlet than the heart-wrenching sobs barely muffled by Poe’s shirt.

“I don’t remember her,” Hux said brokenly, clutching at Poe’s waist. “I don’t remember her, I can’t remember her face. I have nothing of her. Father wouldn’t allow it.”

Poe pressed his lips to Hux’s hair and stayed silent, thinking of his own mother, her ring that he wore around his neck.

“She was a _kitchen worker,_ ” Hux spat, trembling with rage and grief. “A lowly servant. A whore.”

“Hey,” Poe said softly.

“She must have been! Father always said so! She was base and—and—”

Hux buried his face in Poe’s neck.

“She let him hurt me. She let him take me from her. She should have fought for me. Wasn’t I—?” Hux paused to swallow, to try to pull himself together enough to speak without his voice breaking. “Wasn’t I worth it?”

He shook his head, as if answering his own question.

“Hugs,” Poe said, as gently as he could, “She probably tried. I’m sure she did. You’re worth it, I promise.” His hands moved frantically on Hux’s back, trying to smooth away three decades of pain.

“Father never let me forget it.” Hux toyed with Poe’s shirt collar, breathing rapidly. “My _ill breeding._ As if it was my fault. As if he had nothing to do with it.” Hux laughed harshly. “I am a bastard. In every way. You’ve never been more right.”

_Kriff._ Poe was going to have to excise the word ‘bastard’ from his vocabulary.

“I wish I’d known,” was all he could say, shame flooding him at his horrible choice of words.

“It doesn’t matter.” Hux seemed to be pulling himself together, wiping at his eyes, putting on that brittle mask. “You said it in jest. My response was irrational. I apologize.”

“ _No._ Kriff, no, don’t apologize. Please. I fucked up. Your feelings matter, Hux. They’re totally valid. I was being an ass. I won’t ever say that messed-up kriff again. I thought I was being funny but it wasn’t funny at all. Stars, how can I make it up to you?”

“You’re rambling, Dameron.” Hux sniffed, eyes still downcast, searching Poe’s lap as if his composure could be found there. He let out a shuddering breath. He used the heel of one hand to dab under his eyes, let out a little laugh that sounded less harsh than before. “I’m leaking.”

Poe chuckled. He hugged him fiercely, squeezing Hux until his arms hurt.

“I’m really, really sorry,” he said again. “And for the record, it’s not your fault that you don’t remember her, and it’s not your fault that your dad hurt you and took you away. Your dad was an asshole. I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you that.”

“It’s come up,” Hux said carefully, lifting his head enough to give Poe a small, watery smile. He leaned in to give Poe a tentative kiss on the cheek. Poe smiled.

“Well, did you know that I love you?”

Hux froze. He turned his head enough to give Poe a sidelong glance and Poe could just hear the suspicious _Dameron_ dancing on his lips. Poe’s smile widened.

“I do. I hope that doesn’t freak you out.”

“You hardly know me.” Hux’s gaze fell. Poe caught his chin, lifted it until their eyes met again. Maybe Hux had been thinking this was just a fling, that Poe would grow bored of him eventually. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“I know you’re smart.” Poe closed his eyes and rubbed his nose along Hux’s jawline. “I know you’re sexy. I know you’re finicky and fussy and I love that. I know you care about your mom even though you don’t remember her. I know you care a lot, about a lot of things. You’re passionate. You beat yourself up even though you don’t deserve that. And you trust me enough to let me sit on your bed and hold you even after I’ve royally fucked up. So you’re forgiving, too.”

Hux looked away, blinking, and Poe laughed, nuzzling in under his chin.

“I love you, Hugs. Please keep telling me everything you want to. I want to know everything about you.”

“I—” Hux swallowed, hand tracing up Poe’s arm. “I don’t know what to say, Dameron.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“Well.” Hux cleared his throat. “Thank you, I suppose.” He sank further into Poe’s embrace, then repeated, softly this time: “Thank you.”


End file.
